The Holy Trinity
by LilliaJohnson
Summary: On the day of Dean's birth, three major figures that shape his life, unseen or not, were in attendance...


He didn't may much attention to anything anymore.

After all, anything that had been interesting had happened; the Dark Ages, The Spanish Inquisition, Vikings, the first aeroplane. The 20th century had it's highlights, but after black and white films came, humanity just seemed to peater out and slum it in front of screens. And He wasn't so interested in the technical evolution as humanity was.

So, He stopped looking. Everything He'd wanted to see He had seen. And what was to come... well, that just depressed Him.

Besides, there were other universes to explore. Knooks and cranies He'd forgotten about after He'd discarded that latest hobby he'd never even finished the black holes). He was the almighty, after all.

But then he realised how much time had passed since He'd last kept house. Close to sixty years had passed since He'd popped His head in for a look. So He thought He might as well. See how the Germans were doing. Check on NASA's progress. See if giant turtles were still alive or exstinct.

And then before he knew it, the 70's had arrived. The time had come.

And finally there was something interesting to watch.

Prime time.

On a side road in Kansas, a pretty blonde woman named Mary was screaming at her husband to _fucking drive faster, the baby is coming, he's coming now_.

And so, John drove faster.

He watched, amused. Pregnant women. He was glad he invented them.

This should be _fun_.

Reaping could be tiresome. It truly could be.

Human souls had a tendency to whine when their time came. Or blubber. Or throw a fit. He liked the ones that went quietly. Some, children mostly, he even felt slightly sorry for. Pity that they had to die before they could see how the world truly worked.

But then Lucifer took him for his own... a bratty child with delusions of grandeur. A boy who wanted to wear Daddy's shoes. Though Death couldn't fathom why. Being God, listening to all those prayers for _every_ little thing, having to manage all that property, calm down every arrogant little demi godess who thought they were the prettiest ... let the oldman keep the job, he would say. Not that anyone would offer him a chance to. Being Death wasn't just tiresome, it got lonely.

People were too busy running from him to take a seat and share some pickle chips and a Big Slurp over a conversation on Pagan political fueds.

Except Gabriel. He had the time occassionaly. As long as Death provided double stuffed Oreo's.

But no matter. He would endure. The tedium. The boredom. The irritating sobbing and pleas for just a few more years living with heart pains and bad temperament.

He was Death. There would be no order without him.

Besides. There were perks. Infinite power over time, space and souls. The ability to induce fear in whomever he wanted. Pizza on demand.

His list had brought him to Lawrence General Hospital, maternity ward. A young mother passed away during childbirth and refused to listen to her reaper and leave for the other side. The last thing he needed was a ghost wandering around a hospital floor full of doctors and infants. The clean up would be a nightmare.

The job was over far quicker than Tessa had implyed it would be but she always hated hospital cases. Such a soft touch for one of his. Ah well.

And then he saw the boy.

Covered in fluids, squealing as he left the safety of the womb, dragged out by a doctor and wrapped in a soft cloth. To think, he had no idea of what better things there were out in the world to cry about.

And normally, he would have let it go. Slipped into his car, horses were so conspicuous, and gone on his way. But there was something there that made him stop. Just for a moment.

And looked. Truly looked, at not the boy, but the soul.

More than just a light smoke of death surrounded him, even in youth. But there was also so much life, and a greatness that would peak anyones interest.

And for the first time in millenia, Death smiled.

Convincing Mikael Novak to briefly loan him his body was ultimately easier than he thought it would be. He was a pius man and the honour of giving himself freely to an angel of god was one he kept close.

Of course, Castiel had stretched the truth as to his purpose on Earth. This was not so much an explicit duty as a desire that vaguely adjusted itself to Castiel's mission in life. Protect the Righteous Man. Assist him. Save him.

He was merely... checking that the boy was birthed as efficiently and safely as possible. Yes. Yes. One could never be too careful around human doctors.

And so, for the first time since the unfortunate incident with Sodom, he returned to his father's masterpiece.

It was... intruiging, to say the least. Cars. Baseball. Root beer. Scissors. Those... plastic things with bristles that humans used to cleanse their mouths. He would have taken some time to explore, but he had only a brief time before Uriel grew impatient with being Castiel's secret keeper and informed someone of his absence. If only for his own amusement.

His appearence in the small, chemically scented room in Lawrence General where Mary Winchester was nested went unnoticed by all occupants of the room. Mary herself was heavily asleep, and rightly so, her face contented and her body slowly recuperating. John was on the phone outside, excitedly calling anyone who's number he could remember about the birth of his healthy first child.

But it was the baby his borrowed eyes focused on.

A tiny, wiggling human, wrapped in blue flannel and cotton. He was staring with new eyes at a balloon tied to the end of his cot, the irises still the milky blue that most human infants kept for a time after their birth. But as Castiel approached, his bleary focus shifted onto the angel, and he made a small noise.

A noise. Castiel felt his wings flutter in excitement. Already learning. Already doing so much. Breathing. Seeing. Smelling, sleeping. Making little breathy noises.

He reached out with a hand that had held newborns before, and yet had never even touched the soft skin of an infant before this moment. It was... silky. The boy's cheek was soft with yellow fat, and slightly fuzzy, like velvet. Castiel trailed Mikael's finger down the baby's face, over his chest, covered in a tiny blue suit, down to the boy's heart. It thumped, quick and precise under his skin, like the trumming of Grace in his vessels chest.

Magnificent. Heavenly, even, if Castiel were to be particularly blasphemous. Such a tiny thing... he was already intended to do so much for so many. And here he was, reaching with new formed fingers for the angel's own digit, curling around them and staring up at him, perhaps wondering who this mysterious figure was, and was he there to feed him?

Castiel reached out and probed at John's mind lightly. He was stretching and yawning, a proud, smile still in place and eager to return and do as the angel was doing, and marvelling at the child. He felt a sudden dismay, he had been hoping to stay longer, but maybe it was best to leave now. Before he reached the point of not wanting to return home. But he wanted to...

Steeling himself for what would surely be considered a vrivolous use of abilities, he planted the suggestion in the new fathers mind that he perhaps go and seek sustinance. Perhaps a drink of water to calm his excitement. It was very early morning, and the man had been awake for nearly 30 hours, he required rest and was easily suseptable to Castiel's implanted thought. Footsteps faded into the distance, and the angel felt excitement stir in him.

Leaving heaven unpermitted, using his immense power outside orders or need. He'dnever done such things before. He felt like a child stealing a sweet.

A brief flash of light outside the window made him panic, though.

What if it was a superior coming to collect him?

But no, it was merely the sun rising over trees and buildings, casting it's first rays into the little room. The baby gurgled, and Castiel wondered if he was eager to see the light for the first time. If not, then he should any way. It was truly one of his father's greatest achivements, the sun rising.

And who better to show him his first sunfilled moment than an angel?

He lifted the baby as gently as possible, drawing on Mikael's memories of holding his nephew Jimmy the same way, and carefully carried his charge over to the window, opening the blinds fully and sending another wayward touch of grace towards Mary, keeping her asleep.

The baby's gaze fell from Castiel's face for the first time since he arrived, the angel would deny for many years to come that he was disappointed by this, and turned in the cradle of the angel's arms to look outside at the cloudy mass of orange, cooing his approval.

"It's lovely, isn't it?" Castiel murmured happily, and the baby whined again in response. "You will have many oppotunities to see this, little one. I hope that thought is pleasing to you."

The baby turned back to seek the source of the sudden speaking, and locked eyes on the angel peering down at him. Castiel felt his lips turn upwards in a smile, and knew he would never tire of looking into this boy's eyes, no matter how they changed with age.

But any matter. He had to leave. Before John came back or Mary awoke and asked who the stranger holding the infant was. He sighed, letting air travel from out of his vessels lungs slowly. Another interesting experience in a day filled with incredible ones.

He set the child back down in it's incubator, trying to ignore the pang of loss that was already stirring inside him, and chose instead to brush his mouth over the baby's forehead, whispering a blessing for good health against the still so very soft skin.

"Goodbye, Dean."

With that, he extended his wings and ascended.


End file.
